


Coasting 'Till We Met (Remind Me Of How Good It Can Get)

by XV13



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Academy Era, Can 'Home' be a person?, Declarations Of Love, Description and Inner Monologue Heavy, Discussion of Jim's past, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Jim crashes Bones' vacation, Light Angst, M/M, more than one bed but they choose to share anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:14:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27553684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XV13/pseuds/XV13
Summary: Jim returns from summer training to an empty dormitory, and a note on the desk indicating Bones has traveled to Georgia in his absence. On a whim, Jim decides to fly to Georgia to surprise his roommate. Unexpectedly, and for the first time in his life, Jim learns what it means to have something to call 'home'.
Relationships: James T. Kirk/Leonard "Bones" McCoy
Comments: 6
Kudos: 112





	Coasting 'Till We Met (Remind Me Of How Good It Can Get)

**Author's Note:**

> This is...really cheesy, but I had a lot of fun writing it. The title was inspired by the song I'm With You by Vance Joy, while other plot points were inspired by the song Homesick by Dua Lipa. Both songs can be found on my McKirk Spotify Playlist here: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4yrWqFYrx1MHX1abvi00NZ?si=atkCy6CnTLqhNWat7UWXgg
> 
> Thank you for taking a chance on this fic. Happy reading!

Bones was right, though Jim was loathe to admit it. There really was something about these Georgia sunrays, currently beating their mark into his skin pigmentation, that seemed to rejuvenate the depths of his soul.

Jim had certainly seen his fair share of this particular planet, but the McCoy farm had quickly become his favorite. The rustic house, the rows upon rows of wheat and fresh produce – hell, there was even an old fashioned barn (complete with red siding) to top off the stereotypical picture. The comprehensive aesthetic made for a trip that resembled the kind of getaway people either paid top-dollar to experience in today’s modern society, or alternatively wouldn’t be most people’s idea of a vacation.

The summer training session for Command Cadets had recently finished, leaving Jim with a single week of vacation before classes started all over again. While his and Bones’ accelerated schedules would enable them to finish early and with distinction, Jim could feel a sense of burnout creeping in when he’d returned to their empty dormitory.

Sure, the two men made frequent attempts to drag one another away from their studies, if for no other reason than heeding Bones’ descriptive accounts of graphic consequences regarding what could happen to their eyes remained focused too long. But this was the start of their third year, and the spring semester had driven a wedge between the pair.

Between Bones’ clinic shifts and research, and Jim instructing and acting as a teacher’s assistant for a number of courses – they’d barely seen one another in weeks. It wasn’t until Bones came back from his last final to see Jim packing his duffel bag that Jim realized how far the crack between them had opened.

He never got the chance to tell his best friend about the summer course, and Jim only had minutes until his shuttle was scheduled to leave.

The look on Bones’ face was almost enough to make him stay. Jim had never felt more apologetic in his life than he did in that moment, especially when Jim hadn’t seen his friend this devastated since the flight to the Academy.

“I’ll see you when I get back?” Jim had uncertainly asked, his palms sweating around the tentative grip on his bag.

Bones was dog tired, but managed to nod. He stood up stoically, and hugged Jim tightly. There was something about the grip between them, the unwillingness on both ends to let go. Jim’s cheek pillowed on Leonard’s shoulder intimately.

“You be careful up there, kid.”

Even in one statement, so much was left unsaid. Jim had to clench his teeth to fight off the emotion rising in his throat. When he turned on the spot to watch the dorm’s automatic door seal his departure, the last image Jim recorded was Bones sitting on Jim’s bed rather than his own. The older man’s hands pulled at the back of his neck, a gesture Jim knew was a tell for when Bones was stressed or upset.

He had a flight to catch.

Jim returned to their dorm eight weeks later, the space empty and the air thick. Dust was gathering on the tabletops and Bones’ boots were missing from the doorway. There was an honest to god paper note on Jim’s bed, though Jim was hard pressed to think of where Bones would have found the material.

> _Decided to travel home, should be back before the semester begins. Hope you are relatively unharmed, not that you’d tell me if you were. I’ll give your love to Nana. – Bones_

There was a part of Jim that genuinely couldn’t tell if the second sentence of the note concerning his tendency to omit information was meant to be a joke formulated after years of Jim concealing minor injuries - or a spiteful dig at their last conversation and lack of communication.

The fact Jim couldn’t read Bones (even through his writing) was just one more sign on a growing list that things weren’t right between them.

It took all of several minutes to track Bones’ recent communications and get the address he needed. It was only a short shuttle ride away, and was scheduled to leave the following morning.

Upon his arrival at the McCoy household, Jim felt trepidation as he stood on the property. He’d heard stories upon stories of Bones’ upbringing here, yet none of those stories had done the size of the house justice. It seemed to tower over the property as a whole.

Jim rose his hand to knock on the door, but stopped short. The lights on the inside of the entrance were all turned off, and Jim didn’t know if he wanted to be here without Bones. Given how things were left, Jim didn’t know if he would be welcome even if the man was present.

He’d been standing on the porch for more than a few minutes, attempting to work up the courage to knock or the wisdom to think of an alternative plan – when he hears a rustling noise coming from the side of the house.

Leaving his bag at the door, Jim crept around the side of the house and was confronted with the sight of his roommate.

Bones was high-up on an old fashioned metal ladder, fixing the final touches on what appeared to be a window repair. Jim was all too happy to watch quietly and remain undetected. The hot sun gleamed off the lean muscles of his back that flexed and relaxed in coordination with his movements. His absent tank top dangled from his back pocket. Various tools were littered among the top step, and Bones switched between them intentionally and effortlessly. His single focus was on his work, almost as if the window repair was a high stakes surgery. His fingers worked adeptly.

Despite the sudden dryness in his mouth, Jim felt mischievous. He swallowed, and prepared to break the other man’s concentration. “You weren’t kidding about this heat, old man.”

Bones careful movements stuttered, and he was forced by his body’s startle response to grip the rung closest to him in freight. Jim immediately erupted with laughter, and as Leonard registered his friend’s presence, he rested his forehead against his forearm and cool metal. Jim could almost hear Bones’ heart rate straining to return to normal, which only made it funnier.

“You imbecile! The hell you think you’re doing! It’s bad enough I’m all the way up here, but now you are actively trying to kill me?”

Jim made his way to the bottom on the latter, and placed one hand on the metal to stabilize it. He used his free hand to shield his eyes as he stared up at the man. “Well, who told you to climb up that ‘death trap’ in the first place, Bones?”

Bones rubbed a towel over the glass frame twice more in a buffing motion before beginning his decent. “I certainly wasn’t going to stand by and watch my Nan’ do it when I’ve got capable hands and youth on my side,” he explained with a huff.

When he reached the bottom and jumped off, Bones quickly discarded the tools in his hands. With only a momentary pause to look him over, Bones hastily enveloped Jim in his arms.

“It’s good to see you, Jim.”

Jim didn’t have enough experience to identify the feeling blossoming in his chest as it physically connected with Bones’ warm skin. Pushing emotion aside in favor of relying on his favorite coping mechanism, Jim began to joke. “Awe, I knew you’d miss me, Bones.”

Bones pulled away and lightly hit Jim in the arm. “Miss you? Of course not. I’m just glad to have someone to share all the repair work with. You being here just made my life a whole more convenient, cut the list in half and all that,” Bones chided, but the grin on his face was giving him away.

“This is my vacation, Bones,” Jim whined as the pair made their way towards the front door. “You should be serving me that Mint Julep and Peach Cobbler you always talk about, by the fireside no less - not making me fix the baseboards on the deck.”

Bones paused in step, a mischievous smirk in place. “I mean the deck wasn’t on the to-do list, but if you insist-”

“Leonard, show some manners to our company.”

Both of the men immediately shifted their posture, a formality ingrained by the Academy.

Eleanora McCoy was within the prime years of her life, yet still remained to look as fierce as ever. There wasn’t a great deal of resemblance between Bones and his Grandmother, other than the subtle shared shape of their eyes and the dimple produced when the left curve of their mouths perked up. Despite the temperature, she wore a green cardigan and slippers on her feet without giving away any signs of overheating.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. McCoy,” Jim greeted the woman standing in the doorway. Jaunting up the porch steps, he gently grasped her delicate hand. With a peck at the peak of her wrist, Jim made sure to wear his best smile as he spoke. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, formally that is. And may I say, the communication videos we’ve shared thus far did not accurately capture your beauty.”

Eleanora looked mesmerized until Bones snorted behind them. He began walking back to the ladder, teasing as he went. “Can the act, Jim. There’s no replacing the first impression you made during the vid call where you accidentally flashed the poor woman with your chicken legs and tidy whities.”

“You didn’t warn me when you were on the comm, Bones!”

Eleanora disguised her smile behind her free hand, and tugged Jim inside by his elbow. The inside of the house was modern, but the walls still produced an echo when the floors creaked. There was a large staircase just beyond the entrance, and from there a number of sprouting hallways. Compared to the various homes Jim had found himself growing up in, this one had the most character. From all the photographs, it almost seemed as though these walls could have been built on history alone.

“It is so nice to have extra company around the house, James. Make no mistake, you are more than welcome anytime at this residence. Quite honestly, consider it to be the least I can do for the person who put a smile back on my grandson’s face.”

The heat Jim felt flood his face had nothing to do with the temperature of the house. “Mrs. McCoy-”

The frail woman leading him through the kitchen promptly shushed him. She motioned for him to take a seat at the island, and began rummaging through her refrigerator.

“I haven’t known you long, James. Yet, the communications we have shared have taught me that you have an issue accepting praise, even where and when credit is due. Now, Len is not always the easiest person to get along with. None of the McCoy men are – but they are worth their weight in gold, and I can assure you their hearts are made of it. You’ve brought more joy to Len’s life than you will ever know. There is no mistaking the way most of his smiles occur when you are around, or when he is talking about you.”

Eleanora begins reheating a slice of what looks to be a desert of some kind. Once the timer is set, she turns her attention back to Jim.

“He’d been talking for weeks to me in secret about sweeping you away when your finals were finished, he wanted to come here with you. Len wanted to show you where he grew up, wanted you to finally meet me, wanted you to bask in the glow of real sunlight right here on this property…imagine my surprise when the only company that followed Len here was the frown he was determined to keep wearing.”

Jim bowed his head in shame. _Bones wanted to spend the summer with him?_ Here Bones was, planning a restorative getaway for two, and Jim had left without proper warning. He’d demolished Bones’ dream without a second thought until one foot was out the door, due to his own forgetfulness.

“He never got the chance to tell me any of those plans,” Jim explained, and began biting at his nailbeds. It was his own nervous tick, admittedly one he would need to kick before he graduated. It was rather unsightly for a Captain, who needed a strong poker face. “We got so caught up in our work, our opposing schedules. By the time I was able to tell him I had already made plans for the summer, I was leaving for my flight. We tell each other everything…but it slipped my mind. You have to understand Eleanora, I didn’t intentionally mean to hurt your grandson.”

The woman nodded contemplatively. “I know you didn’t, James. There is no changing what has passed, take it from a woman who has seen enough of this world to know at least that much. Instead, here me when I say this-”

She removed the plate from the heater, and sat the bowl of peach cobbler in front of Jim. Handing over the spoon, Jim grasped it between his forefinger and thumb and attempted to pull on it. When it didn’t give from Eleanora’s grasp, she locked eyes with him.

“You’re here now, son,” Eleanora stated slowly, her use of the term of endearment light in an effortless manner. Jim wondered if kindness was ingrained in the McCoy genetics. “You have time now. Please don’t waste it.”

Releasing the spoon, Eleanora moved towards the coffee pot to grab herself a cup. Jim expected her to take longer preparing it, but the woman took it the same way as Bones – black. As she sashayed out of the dining room, she made one last comment. “Your bedroom is set up down the hallway. First door on the left. The fresher is two doors down on the right. Welcome to Georgia, James.”

* * *

Bones’ euphemisms and metaphors echoed in Jim’s head as he found himself thinking about how the Georgia days couldn’t hold a candle to the Georgia nights. The warm air was still a heavy presence, but there was also a steady drum of raindrops falling from the skies. From his view on the porch, Jim wasn’t in any danger of getting wet, which meant he could focus on breathing in the scents of fresh cut grass and mother nature’s gift.

Another big difference between Georgia and San Francisco was the skies. The pollution that seemed inescapable within the cityscape didn’t exist here on the McCoy acreage, meaning Jim’s view of the stars was unrestricted. He gawked openly at the clarity of their brightness shining down on him, wishing (despite his life’s wishes to travel among the stars) he could savor this moment just a little while longer.

It had been five days on the McCoy farm now, and the two cadets were preparing for their return tomorrow. Their trip had been more than successful. Between the work the men accomplished on the house, and the play they partook in during the day allowed Jim to check off a number of experiences on his bucket list – Jim felt satisfied they had fit as much productivity and rest into this trip as humanely possible.

There was only one problem. This house, unlike any Jim had ever spent time in growing up, was beginning to feel familiar. It was the way he knew where the silverware was kept, to the way he knew the fresher sink needed two taps to begin working properly (and would most certainly be next to replace on their already growing to-do list for their next visit here).

It was the way Bones had gripped about Jim’s duffel being located in his room the first night; and the way Jim came to the realization that Eleanora, that sneaky woman, was forcing them to share a room.

“I can clear out the guest room for you,” Bones offered, pulling at the back of his neck.

Jim found he didn’t care for that option at all.

It wasn’t the first time the two of them had shared a bed, but it was the first time Jim heard the crickets outside the window as they feigned sleep, and the first time they’d allowed one another to be close enough for Jim to feel Bones’ steady breaths on his skin. It was the first time the words “Goodnight, Bones,” felt like they were more than a simple courtesy.

Was this house…was it was starting to feel…like _home?_

Jim didn’t have anything in his arsenal that compared to the experience he was having now. The thought of a ‘home’ made him so intrinsically uncomfortable, because it came close to other emotions, but couldn’t be categorized with a nice bow.

There was jealousy flaring from a dark place occasionally before Jim could stop himself, especially when he looked at the photos of the McCoy family sitting beautifully on the mantel. There was confusion when Jim viewed the easy conversations between Bones and his Nana that didn’t develop into screaming matches before the meal was over. There was also a longing to have these aspects as a normal part of his life, which triggered the sadness.

The sadness that came when Jim picked too hard at his own open wounds - and realized that none of the dynamics in this house made sense to him, because Jim had never had a place to call home.

Now that he’d found the closest place to it, they were leaving. They were bound contractually to head back to Fleet-mandated housing and regulation issued furniture. They’d be back to their tiny apartment, showering in the cold when their water heater credits ran dry. It would be the same boring white walls, and hour spent on the supposedly ergonomic chairs which only served to make his back feel as old as Bones said he felt. After his trip here, Jim thought it would all seem so characterless.

Jim redirected his gaze at the stars, and forced himself to commit this constellation pattern to memory. At least, he tried, until the sound of the porch door opening caused him to turn around.

“There you are,” Bones identified, and gestured upwards with a sincere smile. “Looking for yourself up there?”

If they were back in Iowa, the September weather would have caused both of their breaths to vaporize in front of their faces. As they stood, Jim felt nothing but an inner and outer warmth. Not even the rain was enough to cool down the racing in his heart as Bones moved towards him.

“Something like that,” Jim mused, turning back towards the field as Bones settled into a bent stance with his elbows on the porch railings.

Bones bumped shoulders with Jim, causing a ripple effect in Jim’s body as he struggled to remain upright. In hindsight, maybe he shouldn’t have said yes to the second glass of Bones’ homemade moonshine. “Penny for your thoughts?”

Jim snorted, and if he wasn’t sure that he was tipsy before, the sound he just made was proof enough. “As if you’ve ever needed help reading my mind, Bones.”

There was a humbled expression taking over Bones’ features. It was softer than the scowl he often wore at the Academy. It was one more thing about this place Jim wanted to commit to memory. There was an ease about Bones these past few days, from the way his shoulders seemed lighter to the way his southern drawl reappeared.

“Well then, ‘case I haven’t said it enough…I’m really glad you’re here, Jim.”

Jim turned away from the captivating view above him, and exchanged it for the breathtaking view beside him. The insecurity born from years of trauma dared to convince him Bones was only looking at him this way because he was drunk, but a part of Jim dared to hope otherwise.

Bones was looking at Jim the same way Jim had caught him doing repeatedly over the past few days. They’d be doing a mundane task, and their eyes would connect, and that warmth would fill Jim again. Jim knew from experience that the easiest way to read Bones was through his eyes, because they never lied. Even when the man was verbally thrashing Jim for his latest injury and scaring every nurse within a hospital-ward radius, his eyes belayed true concern for Jim’s wellbeing. It was this blatant honesty that made the man so endearing.

Leonard’s eyes right now were as conflicted as Jim felt. Jim could see hope, trust, and want projecting all at once from those dark irises.

At this exact moment, Jim comes to a realization. It might arguably be one of the most important understandings of his life.

“Bones, can I ask you a question?”

The iconic eyebrow jumps high into the air, and Jim has to curb a fit of laughter. He may as well have dumped water on this poor man’s head, because Bones seemed truly taken aback from the easy night they’d been having.

“What is it, Jim?”

Jim tugged on Bones’ elbow, a silent plea to turn towards him. Like Bones has always done since they met, he follows the direction pliantly. His arm drags across the porch railing as he adjusts his stance, the hairs catching wayward drops of rain upon Bones’ tanned skin.

“I don’t really have a frame of reference for this, Bones. I need you to tell me…”

Jim mustered every ounce of courage he’s ever possessed, and took a deep breath to calm the nerves that rarely overwhelmed him like this.

Bones picked up on the tenseness in Jim’s posture, and took Jim’s sweaty palms in his. “Whatever it is, Jim. You need only ask.”

Drawing the last of the strength he needed from Bones’ statement, Jim let the words fall. “Can ‘home’ be a person?”

Bones seemed confused, like he’d never really thought of it before. Alternatively, Jim pondered if maybe he had asked a stupid question and Bones was preparing a rant. Bones’ mouth opened, but no answer was immediately produced. It was like he was tripping over invisible words.

He settled on the phrase, “What makes you think I’d know the answer, Jim?”

Answering a question with a question, as if that made this any easier on Jim. Classic Bones.

“You were married once, and you have a lovely family including Joanna...” Jim began to wait, hoping Bones would interrupt him. When Bones’ didn’t reply, Jim knew Bones was waiting him out. He must have been searching for Jim to answer why he’d even asked about this topic in the first place, in addition to the question Bones already asked.

Jim didn’t want there to be any confusion about his next words, so he made direct and unbroken eye contact again before continuing. “When I came back to the dorm, after being apart from you for so long, and the dorm was empty…I felt just as empty. I didn’t want to feel that way, I wanted to feel complete again. So I traveled to where you were. I stood on the edge of this property, and it still didn’t feel like home - because truthfully, while everyone says I am welcome, this house isn’t my home. It wasn’t until I saw you again that I began to feel like…like I wasn’t chasing something anymore…like I could finally be content wherever I ended up as long as you were by my side. I don’t want to feel the homesickness I feel when I’m without you. I don’t want to search anymore.”

Jim squeezed their joined hands when he couldn’t hold McCoy’s stoic gaze any longer. The rain sounded like it was falling harder on the roof above them due to the silence. Jim swallowed heavily and willed his hands to keep steady in the wake of his confession. “Is that…is that what home feels like, Bones?”

It was Jim’s turn to wait out the other man’s response. His head was down, so he couldn’t focus on much other than the anxiety threatening to make his leg shake. The anticipation threatened to overwhelm him. There wasn’t many moments in Jim’s life that made him feel like he was on the edge of a precipice without ending in catastrophic consequences.

Bones, his best friend, now his potential lover. That was, if Bones didn’t take a swing at him first. It was high risk move, like so many decisions Jim usually made. Oh, how Jim hoped it might be high reward.

Gentle fingers cupped the edge of Jim’s chin, and began to tilt it upwards. Jim didn’t have enough time to check for fear or lies in Bones’ eyes as all he knew for certain was Bones’ lips on his.

It was a quick, daring move. It was like Bones was putting Jim in check, testing the waters for uncertainty before declaring victory. Bones had pulled back too quickly, the ghost of his lips lingering like a phantom Jim desperately wanted to chase, so he did.

Their lips crashed together and remained locked, even as Jim opened to taste. Bones’ hands slid to Jim’s lower back, supporting him like Bones always did, grounding him as Jim’s soul took flight. The fingers splayed upon the hot muscles of his back were explorative, curious even. Jim’s arms had become trapped between their bodies as they connected, but he was quick to move them upwards to pull Bones’ jaw closer to him. The five o’ clock shadow Bones always seemed to be fighting off scratched harshly at Jim’s palms, the sensation igniting his skin alight.

Their breaths were as quick, a necessary but annoying interruption as they continued to neck at one another like teenagers, the need to touch outweighing their lungs capacity constraints. Bones was all he needed, all he wanted, and Jim finally had permission to give himself completely to someone. It was yet another experience Jim had no reference for, because no drug or stimulant or kiss had ever made him feel this high. Bones was officially his choice of aphrodisiac, and Jim prayed he’d never have to kick this addiction.

Separating for another breath, Bones took the liberty of kissing an achingly slow pathway from Jim’s right ear down to his clavicle. Every press of his lips against Jim’s hot skin felt like a promise, a trail of emotional affirmations being intentionally left all over Jim, taking the place of words Bones often struggled to use (no matter how colorful the language).

When Bones rose from Jim’s chest, he pulled Jim closer by the waist. The move effectively closed any gaps of air remaining between them. He softly kissed the edge of Jim’s mouth, before speaking at a register meant just for the two of them.

“To answer your question, yes. I do believe ‘home’ can be a person, because you’ve proven it to me it is possible. I’d be happy to be your home, Jim, if you want me.”

His eyes were glistening, and it was the first time Jim had ever witnessed Bones get so emotional when he was genuinely happy. There was no trace of deception in his eyes, only…love.

“I know I’ve only been here - getting to know the real you - for a moment, but there is one thing I’m certain of. I know that I want _you_.” Jim sighed, the sentiment blissful and cautious at the same time. “I’m out of my depth here, Bones. I don’t know how to give back to you what you’ve already given me. I’ve never been in a serious relationship before, I can’t promise I’ll be good at this. I do want…shit…look…what I’m trying to say here…is that I am willing to try.”

Bones’ thumb slowly stroked at Jim’s cheekbone, a rare smile still evident on his features. “Nobody really knows how to do this, Jim. There isn’t exactly a handbook for this kind of thing. You don’t owe me any debt, you don’t have to be anything other than yourself. That’s the man I fell in love with, the man I want to be with.”

The stars shone brightly upon the two men that night, and Eleanora had a smug expression behind her coffee the next morning as they prepared to leave.

In all truthfulness, there would be good times and bad times. There would be misunderstandings and arguments, but there would also be laughter and loyalty. In a crisis, Jim and Bones would always know they had one another.

And sure, Bones would never truly know peace as long as he was with Jim. There would always be danger, close-calls, and tough decisions. There would always be adventure, pulling him away from any semblance of rest in search for the unknown.

Neither of them, no matter how much they griped, wanted it any other way.


End file.
